


(mal)adjustment

by Winterborne



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Arguing, Confessions, First Kiss, M/M, kind of, lio lashes out at first, they talk it out after tho, they're both not doing too good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterborne/pseuds/Winterborne
Summary: He can’t look at Galo. He doesn’t want to, not right now. Not when he feels like a storm ready to set fire to something, anything, maybe even—No. Lio doesn’t want to think about that.So when he finds himself standing in the middle of his room, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides, he definitely doesn’t think about how easily the floor to ceiling curtains and comfiest bed sheets he’s ever had, both from Galo when he’d first moved in, would blaze fierce with the slightest flicker.Lio isn't adjusting very well to the loss of the promare.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 6
Kudos: 133





	(mal)adjustment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sivictis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sivictis/gifts).



> this is for sithisis, who you can find on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Sithisis) and [tumblr](https://sithisis.tumblr.com/)!! i hope you like it sith TwT

Lio feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his own skin.

It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. Actually, it’s one he grew up with. That ever-present hum in his very core that sparked nearly without a thought, like it was as natural as breathing.

But the promare is gone now. The flames that had lived through Lio, lived through all burnish with a human body too small for all that burning energy to not burst outwards, had flickered out in Lio’s very own hand. He’d felt the warmth of it die as it escaped his fingers. There are many burnish — former burnish, Lio reminds himself — who now talk of a strange sense of stillness and cold, who now bundle up in layers that easily have them spotted for what they used to be.

Lio isn’t much different, though his case is far less conspicuous. No one is going to question a firefighter dressed heavily from head to toe, and outside of work, _everyone_ looks overdressed next to Galo Thymos and his skin-tight shirts.

Lio rarely goes out during off-time without Galo anyway. Or, more accurately, it only seems to be Galo who can coax him out. And that’s fine, he tells Galo it’s fine because between Burning Rescue and helping with more discreet burnish issues, Lio doesn’t have the energy to spare for outings.

Except that’s a lie.

Lio isn’t much different, but he _is_ different. He hasn’t come to know that same stillness he’s heard other former burnish talk about.

Lio still feels like he’s seconds away from doing something — anything — to get rid of the buzzing just below his skin. The everpresent crackling of flame at his fingertips is gone, but he still feels too much, too always. Lio wants to burn.

And, for once, he _can’t_ burn.

It feels like it’s going to burn him up from the inside instead. And today is especially bad.

* * *

“Lio!”

Galo’s shout is clear despite how hard Lio had thrown the front door closed. Lio had known he wouldn’t be able to sneak in, not with how small the apartment is, so he thought he may as well do the opposite. He thought that would maybe make it clear to even Galo that Lio wasn’t in the mood.

“Lio, come on, Ignis told me what happened!”

(Lio knows that was a fool’s decision. Galo notices more than many seem to think. It’s simply that the consequences when they only affect himself never scare the man.)

(It’s what always has this situation turned on its head, Lio shouting after Galo — Galo’s drive to protect others, his own safety less secondary and more not a thought at all.)

Lio storms past him, eyes zeroing in on only what’s ahead so he doesn’t look at Galo — so he can’t look at Galo. He doesn’t want to, not right now. Not when he feels like a storm ready to set fire to something, anything, maybe even—

No. Lio doesn’t want to think about that.

So when he finds himself standing in the middle of his room, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides, he definitely doesn’t think about how easily the floor to ceiling curtains and comfiest bed sheets he’s ever had, both from Galo when he’d first moved in, would blaze fierce with the slightest flicker. The mirror in front of him is blurry, or the image in it is at least. He’s avoiding looking at it, keeping to the edges instead, but he can’t miss the abstract, unfocused shape of his body, stained with soot.

“Lio?” Galo’s voice sounds almost underwater, and it’s then that Lio realises he’s breathing too fast. He breathes in, then out, to match with the curling of his fingers. It feels like his body only grows more tense with how he tries to control his breathing though. He’s never been good at controlling himself, and the promare leaving hasn’t changed that.

Galo’s standing just outside the entrance of his door, Lio doesn’t need to look back to confirm it. It’s what Galo does, never coming into Lio’s room until Lio asks him to.

Lio doesn’t want Galo in his room. Not right now. So he stands there, not turning around but also definitely not thinking about burning the upholstery that Galo had insisted a home should have. He’s not going to turn around, he’s not going to think—

“Lio, please.”

His hands freeze, squeezed tightly in their fists and his breathing jumps as if their gripping his own throat and the _thoughts_ —

“Are you just going to stand there and _pretend_?” Lio’s voice cuts through the silence and his own mind. He spins round and there Galo is, standing wide eyed just outside the threshold marked by Lio’s bedroom door. He looks taken aback slightly, confused. It makes Lio see fiery red. “Don’t act like you don’t know, we both know you’re not actually stupid!”

He says it because it’s true. Galo’s plans might be more willpower than, well, plan, but he’s good at reading people, _too_ good. Good enough to maybe figure out what’s wrong with Lio if Lio even talked about it a little. And what would Galo think of him _then_ —

“You’re always sticking your nose in everyone’s business.” Lio’s stuck in place as he says it, but he can barely look at Galo. Instead, he glowers at the door frame, glares at the door like it’s at fault for all of this instead of Galo. “But you always do this! Go ahead and pretend like your stupid room privacy rule negates that. You’re still here as if I _need_ your help, instead of just fucking off!”

The tension in Lio’s body snaps all at once. Silence fills the room again, and everything is still; both them and Lio’s thoughts. Instead of relief though, the kind he’d feel after releasing all his energy with a spectacular burnish flare and finally leaving him to relax, there’s only a stabbing pain burning its way into his chest in a way that the promare never did.

Galo moves first. It’s to jerk his head to the side, ripping his eyes from Lio to look over at something in the hallway instead. Lio can’t see what. With how strangely distant Galo’s eyes look, Lio wonders if Galo even sees it himself.

“Okay.”

Galo’s voice is small, too small for a man with as much life as Galo. Lio wants to say something, anything, but his throat feels choked off and his tongue is leaden in his mouth like all the energy from him has sapped out at the worst possible moment.

Eyes finally on Galo, Lio can only watch as Galo turns and leaves. The sound of the front door closing and shutting feels like it echos along the walls and Lio’s bones and with it, Lio finally crumples down to the floor as if knocked over by the force.

His eyes sting, just like at this morning’s one and only job. Except there are no flames this time, neither the ones that had been in the house from that job or the ones that used to accompany him everywhere. Lio is alone, just him and the stinging of his eyes, and he focuses on how similar it is to this morning.

After all, a fire dries out the eyes. No way to cry when you’re face first in one.

He looks up when the sting has turned into a dull ache and has moved to his chest instead. The room’s still empty, door wide open as it was when Galo had stood there. He glares at it again but not in accusation.

He could have just closed it, he thinks.

Lio stands up, slowly and awkwardly like a newborn calf. He almost stumbles — does stumble — but catches himself at the last second, a hand against the ground and on one knee. He’d twisted to the side, as if spraining an ankle, but all he feels is that ache in his chest.

This time, when he stands up, he can’t help but catch the mirror action of it to his side and he whips his head there, alert and wide eyed. He doesn’t know what he expects to see (Galo, but not Galo, he doesn’t _want_ to see Galo right now, he tells himself), but he deflates when all that comes into view is his own reflection.

The sight of it almost jumps out at him. His hair is as pastel bright as always and the firefighting jacket is a vibrant red and would be eye catching even without the contrast of his dark clothes underneath. Those things are still evident, but only below patches of dark ash. If anything, it only makes the view stand out more against the backdrop of his room, his own visage jumping out that much more to feel like a punch in the gut.

He stands fully though, two feet planted firmly apart on the floor. Positioned like so, he can see himself directly overshadowing the door, barely fitting into the void of it. He almost wants to look back, see if Galo is still there, simply blocked out by Lio’s body. The twitch of that urge burns out the ache in his chest, melting through his body, and he wants to burn all over again.

He wants to burn what he sees, the mirror in its frame, burn it until it cracks, cracks profoundly enough that it’d be impossible to make out his reflection. Or maybe it’d melt. It’s not an easy task, heating glass that greatly. But it’s not like Lio hasn’t done greater tasks before with his promare.

He only looks back once as he’s leaving the apartment, and it’s to glance back at that mirror as he leaves his room. The curtains are closed, neat as they were before work and when he’d gotten home, and the furniture looks as new as the day Galo had bought them. The mirror stares back at him, showing the same as it had when he’d refused to look at it minutes before.

The only difference is that now he looks directly at it and sees himself in lieu of where Galo had been.

Too little, too late. His body burns all over again.

* * *

Lio doesn’t know why he drives there, but he finds himself at the emptied lake in a blur of passing streets and trees. It’s not like the ice would have returned. Even if it had, there’s no more promare to melt the entire thing with anyway.

An association, maybe. A memory of the last time he’d felt so much.

It’s quiet too. Still, almost. Maybe that’s part of it.

And when he spots Galo’s figure, so very tall despite the slumped sitting and bright against the bare, muted soil of the pit but just as still, it might not do anything to quell the energy buzzing in him, but his stomach also does a small lurch that’s from something else entirely.

He pops out the bike’s kickstand with his foot, and uses all that energy to at least walk over.

“Hi.”

Galo doesn’t react, doesn’t reply. But he doesn’t stand to leave either. Lio takes that as close to an invitation as he can, and takes a seat by the pit, a little further than an arm’s length away. The sun is high in the sky behind them, not even midday yet, but it leaves Galo’s face looking almost dark in shadow. The serious look on his usual sunny face isn’t helping.

“So, you don’t want me ‘fucking off’ anymore then?” Galo keeps staring ahead, and Lio flinches, more at his own words repeated to him than Galo’s serious tone. Lio nods and Galo lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping even more. He looks almost sad. “Ignis said you almost got yourself burned this morning, said you seemed distracted.”

“Yeah,” Lio says. His throat feels dry, the words drier. “Yeah, I did. I was.” A pause, a gulp that does nothing to help. “I still kind of am.”

Galo glances at him then and lets out a small, half hearted laugh.

“You’re still covered in soot.”

Lio blinks once, twice—

“Uh, yeah, I didn’t really have a chance to clean up.” He wipes at his cheeks a bit, but his hands are just as dirty, only smearing the soot further. Galo’s next laugh sounds a little more real. He’s looking at Lio properly now and though his smile isn’t as big as it usually is, it’s still genuine. Lio thinks nothing of it when Galo starts to reach out to him, as if to wipe at the soot himself, but stops halfway into the space between them only to retreat back. Lio blinks for a third time as he watches Galo’s smile twitch down for a split second.

“I was worried, Lio,” Galo says. “I thought… I don’t want that happening again, you know? I don’t know what’s wrong, but if it’s something I can do, you just have to ask, or if it’s something _I’m_ doing—”

“Galo,” Lio cuts him off there, meeting Galo’s eyes. “You’ve done nothing wrong, it’s not like that. I’m simply…” A pause. He glances back out to the lake again, can almost see the brilliant burst of flame that had melted the entire thing when he closes his eyes, and then he’s back with Galo again. “I miss it sometimes. The fire. I just—”

Lio half expects to see some kind of disbelief flash over Galo’s eyes. Exasperation. At least confusion. Instead of that, Galo nods, eyes that exact bit wider they usually have when he’s simply listening to someone and trying to understand, someone they rescued, to Aina, to Lio—

For Lio, it feels like a flick of a match, from nothing to everything. To alive. Like always, he feels like he’ll combust if he doesn’t do something. But this time, he makes that something into talk.

“I miss the promare so much, Galo,” Lio’s voice breaks slightly and this time, Galo doesn’t hesitate as he closes the distance with one arm, just long enough to rest his hand on Lio’s shoulder. Lio closes the rest, pushing himself into the touch until he’s hugging into Galo. “It’s always been there, and now it’s not”—he presses his face into Galo’s shirt, squeezes his eyes shut as they burn again and pulls Galo so close that the tears are rubbed away just as soon as they come—“except it’s not all gone, I can still feel it, Galo. They need to burn and I can’t but I still _have_ to.”

Galo says nothing as he holds Lio, and Lio lets out a shaky breath against Galo’s shirt. A part of it is damp, but for once, Lio feels like he doesn’t have the energy to be too concerned about how that’s his fault.

“It’s been so long since I was around a fire that bad. Not since...” he trails off. “I thought, maybe if I just reached out, it would go like it used to go.”

Galo squeezes his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Lio. I really am,” he speaks against the top of Lio’s head, pressing with a firm but soft touch there. “We can… I can help you find someone to talk to.”

Lio laughs wetly as he finally pulls away. He smiles despite how all his muscles feel tired. When Galo smiles back though so it’s worth pushing himself.

“You don’t have to. You’ve already done so much for me. If anything, I already feel slightly guilty as is. It might help though, I already feel a bit—”

“Hey, hey!” Galo interrupts him, smile tugging down into a frown. He catches Lio’s eyes again. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this, okay?” He smiles then, bright, brighter than any flame Lio has ever seen, and continues. “It was the right thing to do, you know?”

There’s a tug in Lio’s chest, just like the one in his stomach when he’d seen Galo earlier, but he laughs anyway.

“I’m pretty sure helping Lucia out at work with her inventions and doing the station’s dishes after you used Aina’s stuff to make some big meal is doing the right thing. This is a bit more than doing the right thing.” Galo has always been like that though. Going above and beyond. It’s not like Lio hasn’t seen him do the same for others. But—

Well, it’s not like Lio’s ever seen Galo give half his home away to someone else. Only him.

“It’s not like she had a shift that day, she wasn’t going to need it!” Galo pulls away completely, but back in his own space, he starts to fidget in place. As if all of Lio’s nervous energy had been transferred to him. “I want to, Lio. Please don’t ever feel guilty about any of it.”

Lio relaxes into the moment. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do that: not feel guilty. But he can try. At the very least, he isn’t having to try (and fail) at relaxing right now, Galo bouncing one of his legs and back to smiling wide like usual almost as if he’s using up energy for both of them.

Lio wonders, if he did the same, all that movement even when still. Would that help? He watches Galo, his body humming in place, and to Lio, it’s as if every one of Galo’s small movements are a reflection of how Lio feels.

It’s nice, watching Galo like this. Not just for a sense of outlet, but also… just nice. Galo moves in place like an excited puppy that can’t contain it all and definitely more adorable. Or maybe he’s biased, he’s always enjoyed looking at Galo more than a puppy, or anything really—

And Galo seems to feel the same, because Lio can’t miss how Galo’s eyes glance down to Lio’s lips, looking entranced for all of one second before ripping himself away.

He tries to look over at Lio the same as before, but Lio also can’t miss the slight guilt in the man’s eyes. Lio laughs, equal parts nervous and maybe relieved as his stomach does that same lurch. Galo only looks guiltier at that, sheepish as he looks back at the pit.

“Galo,” Lio tries. His voice sounds weak, cautious, even to himself, but he has to try. “Do you like me?”

It’s Galo’s turn to laugh now, although his is nervous and _manic_.

“Of course I like you!” Galo’s blushing, now rubbing at his neck as if he needs the distraction. “You’re a really good guy, how could anyone not like you!”

“That’s not…” Lio winces, but more at his own words. _Do you like like me?_ God, he sounds like some teenager even inside his head. “Galo, when’s the last time you dated? Would you,” Lio pauses, not sure if this is harder or easier than what’d he’d said before, “want to date?”

He leaves the ‘ _me’_ unsaid, just in case he really did misread everything. Giving Galo an out. Galo, though, falls silent and serious.

“Yeah.” He’s still not looking back at Lio, guilt suddenly all Lio can see on Galo’s face. “Yeah, I do.”

“Hey.” Lio can’t help but smile, giddy with energy in a way that’s unfamiliar. When he brings a hand to rub at Galo’s shoulder, to get Galo to look at him, Galo only jumps away from the touch as if scared. “Galo?”

Lio pulls his hand back, doesn’t try touching him again. It hurts, the idea that he scared Galo. That he scares Galo. It having nothing to do with Lio’s want to burn though, that somehow makes it hurt worse.

“I don’t want you to do anything because,” Galo starts, and Lio feels his chest tighten as Galo takes the time to find the words for once, “I don’t want you feeling guilty. Like you owe me anything. Owe me this.” Galo’s fidgeting in place again, although restrained. He glances back up at Lio before diverting his eyes again.

Lio feels his chest tighten even more and release all its tension both at once.

Galo’s not scared of Lio. He’s scared of hurting Lio. The guilt suddenly, painfully, makes sense.

“If I said I’d try not feeling guilty over everything you do for me,” Lio says, slowly resting his hand on Galo’s shoulder again. His voice seems to calm Galo enough that he doesn’t flinch again. “Then could you try not feeling guilty over something like that?” Galo glances at him with that, once, twice, and then the third time it seems to stick despite how sheepish he looks. “Would I ever do anything I didn’t want to do?”

I mean…” Galo trails off, and then he starts to laugh again. This time, it’s a free sound. “No, no, you wouldn’t. The entire reason I met you was because you were doing what you wanted, everything else be damned.”

Lio can’t help but laugh with him, the sound from them both mingling in the empty air of the lake pit. Lio rubs small circles in the meat of Galo’s shoulder as they both come down, breathless.

“Would you…” Lio says, but Galo’s looking at him now, face flushed from laughter and the sun behind them catching the side of his face, and Lio loses his train of thought for a second. It comes back when his eyes trail down to Galo’s lips though, suddenly back on track. “Would you feel guiltless if I kissed you now?”

“I,” Galo gulps, but Lio catches how his eyes glance to Lio’s lips too. Galo smiles, small but just as, if not more, genuine than his usual smiles. “I could try.”

Lio watches Galo a moment more for any other response, feels his own cheeks burn when none comes and the realisation of _this is it_ hits him so hard his entire body feels light. He leans forward before it can scare him away.

Galo’s lips are soft and plush against his, even if it’s a simple, light touch. They stay like that a few seconds, frozen as the unfamiliar becomes familiar. Lio starts rubbing circles into where he’s holding onto Galo’s shoulder again as he tilts his head to the side a bit, and that’s when he feels Galo moving.

Galo’s palm rests warm and tentative against Lio’s jawline, fingers curling gently to the side of Lio’s neck. Breathing in deep and then out, shuddering, is all Lio can do before he’s pushing his own hand up to cup Galo’s cheek and sliding his lips more fully against Galo’s.

The only reason Lio pulls back so soon is because Galo soon loses that shyness and starts kissing back for real, his hand on Lio’s jaw slowly growing more confident and copying Lio’s in guiding the kiss, and it’s so good Lio feels like his chest is going to explode. He feels embarrassed slightly, but when he hears Galo panting just as heavy as himself, he can’t bring himself to care.

“Much better when I’m conscious to kiss back, huh?” Lio’s lips brush against Galo’s as he speaks. He feels the rush of air as Galo laughs.

“That— that was CPR, it didn’t count!”

“Oh, it didn’t?” And that’s okay, because Lio’s going to get so many that _do_. Galo leans back in just as Lio goes for another one, and this time, he can feel Galo’s smile against his own. There’s still the buzz of energy, clawing below his skin, but for once, he feels warm again as he presses slowly into the kiss. It’s nothing like the promare but maybe, Lio thinks, he might like it even more.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope everyone enjoys this! you can find me over at [twitter](https://twitter.com/_awinterborn) and [tumblr](https://awinterborn.tumblr.com/), but both accounts are 18+ sorry


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